


A Phantom To Lead You

by RobinTrigue



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Shapeshifting, This is an ode to Hot Topic camp, and all the things I read longingly when I was fourteen years old, corny as hell, mild MCR references, wwe imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: Prompt from the actual literal WWE:"If there is a vindictive part to Balor’s psyche, it may reveal itself in the form of this European crime lord. Although The Underboss commands an untold legion of loyal thugs and assassins, he still prefers to do some of the dirty work himself. Of course, his prized Doberman Pinscher is always there to finish the job. If you find yourself duct taped to a chair in a foundry in Bucharest, chances are you’ve crossed The Underboss and your fate is all but sealed."
Relationships: Finn Balor | Prince Devitt/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Phantom To Lead You

**Author's Note:**

> In 2017, the WWE posted [this overwhelmingly horny listicle](https://www.wwe.com/article/finn-balor-demon-king-reimagined) of self-insert fic and Black Parade references. What I did next was inevitable, but done with love.
> 
> Oh, photo credit to the LITERAL WWE. THEY MADE THIS.

You find yourself duct taped to a chair in a foundry in Bucharest. The Underboss paces around you, light glistening off his demonic tattoo and Doberman Pinscher close at his heels. You can’t help feeling there’s something of a strange intelligence in the animal’s violet eyes, but how many could even see it past those slavering jaws and massive fangs?

“Eyes on me,” comes the Underboss’s rich voice. He stands in front of you, thumbs looped into his chic studded black leather belt. A sinister smirk stretches across his chiseled features. He’s everything you’d ever heard described and more: the tattoo, the physique, the cold and uncaring nature; yet, despite yourself, there is something alluring about him too, about the way the tight leather pants cling to his muscular thighs. An involuntary shiver passes through you, thinking about what he would look like without them.

“Where is my money?” he demanded. “I’ve been waiting all month.” The makeup around his eyes is dark and sinister, making him resemble his terrifying tattoo all the more.

“Please,” you manage. “My family, we don’t have much…”

He scoffs, grabbing you by the chin and leaning in close. “Yeah, my lackeys heard that same answer last time they came round, but guess what? It’s not good enough.” The dog behind him snarled. “So unless you can come up with something better fast, you’re gonna stay here for quite a while, I think.”

Heart racing in fear, you can’t help but to stare into those eyes, like chipped blue ice, and at the scar that stretches in a neat line down his face.

“Who hurt you?” you hear yourself asking. The Underboss steps back with a look of surprise, face filling with vulnerability that perhaps he hasn’t shown to anyone in a long time…

[…]

…The grill at the bottom of your cell clangs open, and pushed through it is a bowl of broth and a lump of stale bread.

“Eat,” says the deep, attractive voice of the Underboss. You crawl forward gratefully; you hadn’t expected him to feed you!

“Come, Prince,” he says, and you can hear the clicking of the massive dog’s claws on the cement. You can’t help but wonder if The Underboss checks in on all his prisoners like this, or if you are special in some way. When you were brought here, you’d thought your fate was all but sealed, yet today his eyes had looked so strangely, beautifully sad during the interrogation…

[…]

…He sighs. “When I was a child, we had nothing. There was chaos everywhere, bodies in the streets. My mother and I were hungry every day. I swore to myself to someday become the most powerful person in the whole world, so I would never be starving again.”

“You succeeded,” you say quietly, “but why don’t you use that power to help others?”

His dark-ringed eyes flash dangerously. “I’m a man,” he says, “I’m not a hero.”

But you sense there is something deeper inside him, something hurt that could still be healed…

[…]

…You find, this time, that instead of thin broth and stale bread, it was a warm, rich stew full of meat and vegetables!

“Wait!” you cry out. “Who are you?”

Your mysterious benefactor looks out through the top grate with vivid purple eyes. You gasp.

“Prince?!”

The man hangs his head in embarrassment. “Yes,” he says. “Please don’t think less of me. Finn is a very generous master; not everyone would be this kind to a shapeshifter like me. I have to go now, but I’ll come visit you…”

[…]

…The cold nights begin to find rhythm as Prince comes to your cell every night. “I could tell you were different from the others; he couldn’t break you,” he says, sitting cross-legged in his floor-length leather coat and leather boots. As a human, his soft brown hair is long enough that it often falls into his big violet eyes.

“Finn seems so sad,” you tell him. You’d used the Underboss’s name in front of him earlier that day, and the moody, mysterious man had stared at you for a long time, speechless, his jawline and abs accentuated by the shadows of the dark hallway.

“He thinks the world took his heart,” Prince says. “That scar? It’s more than skin-deep. His dreams have been decimated.”

“But he took you in?”

“Yes,” Prince nods. “Were-dogs like me used to be hunted in this land, but when Finn found me injured and broken, he helped me, and even became my friend.”

The muscular dog-man takes your hands. “I think if there was someone who could help him, someone special and kind, he might even truly smile again.”

You shake your head. You never would have would have thought the man they called “the Demon” could have demons of his own…

[…]

…Finn sighs, and looks out his bedroom window. The shadow of his leather jacket’s popped collar makes him look like a monster, but his handsome features look tender in the light of the setting sun.

“I don’t know,” he tells you. “Sometimes I do get the feeling she’s watching over me.”

“She would be proud of you,” you say. He turns, enigmatically masked in shadow.

“You’re free to go. I’ve cancelled what your family owes me.”

“But–” your voice catches, and he looks up hopefully. “But, I’d miss you…”

[…]

…“I believe in you,” you say, taking his attractive hand in your own. “Prince and I both do! You can be the saviour of the broken!”

“No, can’t you see?” he cries, casting you aside. “It’s too late! My misery and hate will kill it all! People will take one look at me and despise me! I’m the hideous phantom that’s been haunting them all these years!”

“You mustn’t be ashamed to show your scar,” you tell him. “Once people get to know you and see the love in your heart, they’ll know how much you’ve overcome!”

“See the love in me,” he whispers. “You mean like you did?”

You feel yourself blush, but he takes a step towards you. Your heart pounds in your chest…

[…]

…The building a burning wreck behind him, you see tears running down your lover’s face, carrying makeup down with them to smear dark lines down his pale cheeks.

“All the plans that I had made,” he says, his voice trailing off. You step forward and take his large hand.

“I can help you make new plans,” you say. Behind you, Prince barks, and you laugh. “Alright, _we_ can help you!”

“Do you really think the Underboss, the Demon of Bucharest, can reform himself?” he inquires. You nod seriously.

“I believe in you,” you inform him.

“I never could have done it without you,” he exclaims. “I was damned, and you saved me.” And standing there in the ashes with the man that you love and his best friend, you know that together, the three of you will carry on, unbroken, forever, thanks to the power of love. 


End file.
